Fashion or Passion
by raining tears
Summary: What happens when Harry's friends put him in a fashion class? He makes a bet with Draco that he will get the highest grade, of course! that rating thing.. yeah


_Fashion or Passion_

By: _Srreadsalot_

Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter no matter how much I wish I did. Just the story is mine.

Chapter One: The Bet

Harry had no style. His natural gifts were good, but he buggered them up with his too-big clothes and out of style wardrobe. It didn't help that all the non-uniform articles of clothing he owned were once owned by his cousin Dudley, but with all his money, that was no excuse. He had almost more money that Draco Malfoy's whole family and all it did was sit in a vault at Gringotts when it could be spent on clothing that actually fit.

Harry didn't care though. He was happy with the way he looked and he told his friends that. "I really don't care what I look like guys. My main goal is to destroy Voldemort and become an auror. I don't need to look like a super model to do that."

Hermione and Ron didn't believe him though. They decided to take the matter into their own hands. The problem was that neither of them had much of a sense of style either. Ron's mum bought his clothes with little input from him so he usually looked nice in the boy-who's-mom-buys-his-clothes kinda way. Hermione's mom was a dentist but she had gone to a fashion school on a whim and learned a few things. She also still kept up with her sense of style so Hermione looked like she had taste even though her mom bought her clothes also.

The solution to their problem showed up in a flyer on the announcement boards one evening though. The common room was pretty empty. The fire was down to embers and Harry had just gone to bed. The three of them had been studying for a big potions test they had when they came back from break and Hermione had finally allowed him to go to bed after he could recite the seven uses of dragon's heart blood.

"What are we going to do with him, Ron? He kinda looks like Fat Bastard in those huge clothes!" Hermione straightened her papers to vent her frustration. "There has to be something we can do! If we approach him head on, he just ignores us and if we kidnap him and force him into different clothing, he will just change back."

Before Ron could answer though, there was a small looking house elf with an announcement in her left hand and a pin in her right. The old potato sack was fraying at the edges and her big tennis ball eyes were a breathtaking sky blue. "Hello, how are you doing?" Hermione asked kindly.

The house elf jumped out of her skin. "Oh dear, bad Dilba, bad! You was supposed to not disturb no students. Dilba will have to shut her hands in the oven, she will. Dilba is very sorry for disturbing you, students. I shall go now to burn my hands." Dilba went to leave the same way she came but Hermione grabbed her. "Eek!" Dilba squealed.

"Shh, it's ok, I promise. Please don't go and shut your hands in an open. You didn't bother us at all. Now, what are you here to do?" Hermione smiled kindly at the frightened house elf, who, at the moment, was clutching her chest and breathing very fast.

"Dilba, Dilba, was here to post this, mam." Dilba said between gasps. She handed Hermione the paper and popped out without another word.

Hermione decided to hang the paper for Dilba and went to the announcement board. She read the notice out of curiosity and stopped short of posting it. "Ron, I think I have just found a solution to our problem. Look!" Hermione squealed and handed the notice to Ron.

He read and then stared at her as if she had grown another head. Hermione was dancing from foot to foot as if she had to pee. "This is great Hermione, but I don't think Harry will go for it." Ron handed back the piece of paper to Hermione who stopped dancing.

"You have no sense of imagination, Ronald. We aren't going to tell him about it! We are going to enter his name in the class and when he gets his new schedule on Monday, we will tell him what we did and it will be to late for him to do anything about it." Hermione squealed again at her own ingenious plan.

Ron thought about it and, slowly, a smile formed on his lips. "You are so evil when you put your mind to it Hermione. I like it, I like it a lot. Harry in a fashion class, he is going to murder us, but I like it." Ron hugged Hermione and swung her around. He set her down but didn't remove his arms. "I like this too." Ron said shyly.

Hermione blushed a light pink and looked down at Ron's slightly exposed chest. The once pink shade turned to a bright red that couldn't be explained away. "It's nice." Hermione mumbled slightly and looked into Ron's eyes. She gasped slightly at the look in Ron's eyes. The look said it all. He leaned down and she went up on her tip toes to meet him.

The kiss was chaste, just lips, but they were both inexperienced in the field of kissing so it was okay with both of them. They parted finally and Ron took Hermione's hand. He picked up her books from the table with his other and led her to the girl's dormitory stairs. "Good night." He said softly and handed Hermione her books.

Hermione gave his hand a light squeeze and took the books graciously. "Good night, Ron." She turned to go up the stairs and Ron watched until he couldn't see her anymore.

Christmas break had ended and everyone was back. For once, there wasn't a buzz around school. No one had done anything extremely scandalous and there hadn't been any fights. People were searching for a good rumor that happened to be true.

The trio of Gryffindors walked into the Great Hall together that morning. The Christmas Trees were still floating about ten feet off the ground and the table cloths were still green and red. It seemed no one wanted Christmas break to end.

At the Gryffindor table, Harry sat on one side of Hermione while Ron sat on her other side. Usually Ron sat next to him but he shrugged it off as unimportant and started loading his plate with the delicious looking breakfast. There was a pile of never-ending pancakes in front of Harry and a boat of maple syrup. Bacon, sausage patties and links, scrambled eggs, small vats of orange juice, and various types of cereal were scattered in intervals around the table. Harry ate almost some of each. The grits in front of Hermione, though, went untouched.

The screech of owls from overhead signaled the arrival of mail, and with it, their new schedules. Apparently, the teachers had gotten together over the summer and decided that sixth and seventh years were going to have different schedules for the last part of the year. You could drop classes you didn't like or add classes you wanted to take. Harry wasn't expecting to get a schedule change since he didn't sign up for one so he continued eating.

Harry stretched his arms high over his head and bended back slightly as if he was doing the limbo. He was startled when an owl dropped an envelope in his lap and then flew away. He didn't recognize the owl so he assumed it was either from someone he didn't know or a school owl. A schedule card and a piece of paper were sitting in the opened envelope. Harry took out the little piece of paper and read: _Thank you for your interest in my class. I hope we will have a fun and successful rest of the year. Sincerely, Madame Dubois. _

Harry furrowed his brow. He didn't remember showing interest in any new class. He looked at his new schedule card and his eyes bulged when he saw his newest class. _Fashion 101! How in the hell did I get signed up for th--._ He suddenly knew. He turned his head toward Ron and Hermione very, very slowly. "What. Did. You. Do.?" He asked very calmly but his tone held promised violence.

"Now Harry, it could be fun! You will get a sense of what suits you. Like colors and designs and what not. And you get to make your own clothing so you wont have to buy it and you can make it to fit you." Hermione smiled very hopefully.

Harry glared death in her direction and got up very slowly from his seat. _There is no way I am taking this fucking class. No fucking way. _He walked out of the Great Hall and toward the dungeons. He had a potions test in about a half hour. He would worry about this stupid class later.

Harry sat in his normal seat, seething. He had tried to study some things last minute for the test but he kept seeing scissors, needles, and thread dancing along the page. The door slammed and he was startled. Draco Malfoy came storming into the room. "Don't start with me, Potter. I'm already pissed and I don't need any more." Malfoy sat down in his normal seat in the front of the class and did a little seething of his own. Harry forgot about the fact that he was put into a stupid fashion class and wondered about Malfoy. Harry had never seen him seethe before. It was funny but he wondered what had happened.

He was about to ask, just for curiosity's sake, when Draco turned around and started speaking in an outraged tone. "I can't believe Pansy and Blaise! They come off all chummy, chummy, pretending to be your _best _friends, but noooooooo. I was hunky dory this morning. Not a caaaaare in the world. Then, the new schedules come. I look around, just because, and I see you got a new schedule. I knew it was going to be a good day when I saw the death stare you glared at Granger, but, before I could comment, an envelope is dropped in my lap bearing a strange familiarity that reminds me of my Hogwarts letters. I open the envelope and see a note, along with a new schedule. I'm slightly suspicious but I read the note." Malfoy stopped and recited in a high pitched tone with a mock French accent, "_Thank you for your interest in my class. I hope we will have a fun and successful rest of the year. Sincerely, Madame Dubois. _I was very confused. I didn't remember showing interest in any class, let _alone_ signing up for one. So, I look at my schedule and at the bottom in bright _red _letters: Fashion 101." Malfoy stopped speaking then and really looked at Harry. Harry would have said Malfoy blushed, but Malfoys do not blush.

It was hard for Harry to contain his laughter. I giggle popped out and he got a death stare of his own from the disgruntled Slytherin. "Sorry, it's just; I don't think I have heard anyone actually use the worlds, hunky dory, before." His laughter erupted and it took a good minute for him to settle down. "If it's any conciliation, I'm in that class too. The look your… good day started with happened to be because of," He cleared his throat and spoke in a mock French accent of his own, "Madame Dubois."

It was now Malfoy's turn to fight the urge to laugh. He defeated it, of course. He _was _a Malfoy after all. "So, I guess that's another class I will have to kick your ass in." Draco was feeling good about this. If he could turn the class into a competition of sorts, he might get through it alive. A competition with Harry Potter? Even better. "Seeing as we are both stuck in this class, why don't we put a bet on it? The person with the highest grade at the end of the year wins."

Harry thought about it. It wasn't like he couldn't beat Malfoy at pretty much anything _non-_scholastic, but the world of academia seemed to be a world he had trouble accessing. He would never back down from a challenge from Malfoy though, and it might prove useful, seeing as it would probably help his grade. "You're on, Malfoy. But the stakes. You have conveniently left those out."

Malfoy mused over this. He had almost thought Harry would back out, seeing as he _obviously_ had no fashion sense at all, but he was glad he was going to get to make Harry do something he didn't want to. "Come now, Potter. I have simply not mentioned the stakes because we do not know yet what the class will be. If I knew we would be making clothing, I would say the loser has to wear something he made during the end of the year ball. But seeing as I don't know, I can't really say. How about, if we do make clothing, those are the stakes. But if we don't, the loser has to wear a costume of the winner's choosing to the end of the year ball, no backing out. Have we a deal?" Draco was now almost looking forward to the class, almost. He would get to embarrass Potter no matter what happened. He walked over and stuck out his hand to the brooding Gryffindor.

Harry didn't really like the stakes. His fashion sense was pretty bad, at times, but he had to go though with it. He took the offered hand and squeezed tighter that was necessary. He let go and Malfoy went back to his seat.

Harry stretched as the bell rang. He had just finished the test and it had been a tough one. He got all his stuff together and came out of the Potion's lab holding his head. The test had milked his brain of all useful information but he was happy; he thought he did well.

Hermione was glowing next to him. She had a feeling she got an A, but that was old news. She always got an A. The other reason was that he was now talking to the two of them again. After making the bet with Malfoy, he decided the class might actually be worth it if he could humiliate the Slytherin.

Harry thought suddenly, _The bet…_ He hadn't told Ron and Hermione yet. What was he going to say? He decided to just come out with it and said, "Guys, about that fashion class you put me in…" The two winced and looked to the ground as he continued talking. "I just want you to know that I forgive you. You were right. I have noooo sense of style and, who knows? I might actually enjoy it. But I still have something to tell you. Blaise and Pansy put Malfoy in the same class as a joke." He looked at the two of them for a reaction and just got a raised eyebrow. "We decided to make a bet on the class. The one with the lowest grade at the end of the year has to ware a costume of the other's choosing, or something he made depending on the class, to the end of the year ball."

He was ready for the two of them to explode. They were silent for about a minute when Hermione said, "Are you sure you know what you're doing? I mean, your fashion sense is slightly… skewed." She smiled apologetically at the statement. "Malfoy on the other hand… matches?" Ron coughed to cover a laugh and Harry scowled to cover his chortle.

"I know, Hermione, but you were the ones who put me in this fashion class. I can't do anything about it anymore. Besides, maybe the thought of beating Draco will help jump start my fashion sense." Harry smiled and left the two to go up to the common room before dinner.

A/N: This was a story I cam up with after I got a dare from a friend of mine. They asked me to write a story that had to do with Harry and Draco making a bet that had to do with dressing up. Let me know how I did.

**A/N/N: Okay everyone, school starts in about a week. That means not as many updates. I really need to focus on school work and myself. So I will continue to write, it will just be less. I was on vaca last week so you can't count that in your "more or less" listings. XP Thanks for the support and reviews, SR**


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